


Negotiations

by Josselin



Series: Negotiations [4]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josselin/pseuds/Josselin
Summary: After Laurent leaves, Damen imagines what is happening on the other side of the fort.





	Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Luxury Few Can Afford](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305457) by [niniblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblack). 
  * Inspired by [Brother of Akielos, Brother of Vere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612120) by [phoenixflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/phoenixflight). 



> This is a sequel to 2 other fics. First read [A Luxury Few Can Afford](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15305457) and then read [Brother of Akielos, Brother of Vere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612120) and then you can read this one and have it make sense. 
> 
> Thank you so much to niniblack and phoenixflight for graciously allowing me to play in their sandbox.

Laurent left. He pressed a soft kiss to Damen’s cheek after his threat, and then Damen watched him cross the room and exit through the elaborately carved wooden door. His elaborately fancy clothes gave him an appearance of formality and being closed off, but there was a slight awkwardness to his step that reminded that he had just been splayed out on Damen’s bed and that the glass toy was still keeping Damen’s spend inside of him. Damen smiled, watching. Laurent slipped cat-like through the door frame and the door closed slowly behind him.

Damen relaxed backward onto the bed. The bedclothes were still all in disarray, and he reached for a pillow and pulled it over to rest behind his head. He could not stop smiling. Laurent’s threat of ten generations of war between Akielos and Vere echoed in his ears and yet his eyes were full of the image of Laurent pressing the glass plug back inside of himself. 

The plug had slid inside smoothly--Laurent was slick enough with oil and seed--even though it was not small in size. 

Damen imagined what would happen when Laurent returned to the section of the fort reserved for the Veretians. The Akielon royalty and the Veretian royalty had been placed in separate wings, as though the steward at Marlas had been afraid fighting would break out among their servants in the hallway. Laurent would have to make his way back to the Veretian wing either by walking along the battlements or by crossing the courtyard. Damen supposed he could take the much longer route through the kitchens and by the stable, but it was almost twice as far. 

Walking along the battlements meant he would have to climb the stairs, and then make his way in his court shoes along the narrow stone walkway that passed the archer’s posts. There would be guards posted along the wall--a mixture of Akielons and Veretians--but no one who would stop to speak to Laurent as he made his way. Crossing the courtyard would avoid the stairs up to the top of the wall, and the narrow stone pavings of the path along the old wall, but Laurent might encounter other courtiers who were still talking or mingling with drinks after the evening meal. Would Laurent risk that type of distraction? Or perhaps he welcomed it. Perhaps he was lingering now in the yard himself, talking in low tones with one of the Patrans, promising them an excellent deal on their grain tariff. Telling Prince Torveld that--

Damen didn’t like that direction. He turned his thoughts. Laurent might have wanted to avoid the steps up to the battlements and the people in the courtyard, and have made his way through the servants’s corridors to the stables. There wouldn’t be anyone there who could interrupt him, and he could have used the servants corridors on the other side of the fort to make his way up to Auguste’s chambers. 

Even if he had taken the longest route, he would have made it back to Auguste by now. Would Auguste take him again, Damen wondered. Auguste had fucked him earlier that day already; Damen had seen the results. Laurent had been walking gingerly when he had left Damen’s rooms, fucked twice with the glass plug inside of him again. Would he be ready to take his brother a second time yet that evening? He must, Damen thought. Why else would he have replaced the plug and left. He had spoken of the agreement between Akielos and Vere. He would have needed to return to Auguste to tell him of what Damen and Laurent had spoken of, and Auguste would certainly ask about how their negotiations had proceeded.

Damen wondered how it was between the two brothers, when they were alone. He imagined the two of them, each golden in their own way. Was Auguste tender with his younger brother? Sweet and considerate? Would he fuss over how pink Laurent had become, wearing the plug on his mission across the fort? Would he touch Laurent gently with a salve?

Or they were brothers, after all. Brothers were not always sweet. Auguste might know his brother’s endurance better than anyone. Auguste might simply slide into Laurent as quickly as pleased him, knowing that Laurent would be able to endure it.

Damen had imagined it something like that back when he had thought of them only as a merchant and his spoiled pet, Louis. Alphonse the merchant had been tolerant of his pet’s antics and attitude. The only reason to indulge such an obviously expensive pet had to be making him take it in the bedroom. Damen had imagined them thus, that Louis had had his way during the day, with free reign of Alphonse’s purse and the temperamental ability to direct Alphonse to his liking. Yet for Alphonse to keep paying him, there had to be some kind of appeal, and Damen had imagined it was the pleasure he had felt when he had thrust upward and surprised Louis with the final inches of his cock. The joy of wiping the bitchy expression off of Louis’s face and watching his mouth form a small circle of surprise. 

Prince Auguste was not as indulgent of his brother as Alphonse was of his pet, but perhaps that was still how it was between them. Laurent was allowed free reign of not just Alphonse’s purse but Auguste’s politics, and in exchange, he offered something valuable in the bedroom. 

Whose idea was it, Damen wondered.

Was it Laurent who took out the toy with his brother’s emblem on it and suggested a gift for their brother prince? Or did Auguste summon his brother to his chambers to tell him Laurent was needed to undertake an important task for the good of their kingdom? 

Had they done this before? Was the toy new and specially designed for this purpose? Was this the first time that Auguste had slid it inside Laurent? Had Laurent been particularly attuned to it within him because he had not felt it that way before?

Or did they do this often? Was it common between them to include toys in their bedsport? Did Auguste often tease his brother with such antics? Perhaps he kept his seed inside Laurent often. Had Laurent been sitting at the negotiating table earlier that day filled with his brother’s spend and the unforgiving hardness of a glass plug? Laurent would not have been able to stop thinking of it--he would have felt it every time he shifted his weight in his chair. He had made no sign of that kind of distraction during the discussions. And Auguste would have known that it was within Laurent. When their eyes met at the negotiating table that would have been between them. 

Auguste might tease his brother a bit, knowing. Send Laurent across the room to fetch one of the papers. Then, when Laurent had risen and walked over to bring it, say, “Oh, not this one, the other one,” and watch Laurent walk carefully across the room again. 

Damen did not know how they would stand it, knowing. He was aroused again just thinking of it. He was blushing lying in bed alone with the dirtiness of his thoughts and touching himself slowly with one hand. His hand and his cock were damp with the slick that he had been using to fuck the Prince earlier, and that only made him blush deeper.

Auguste and Laurent were probably not blushing, Damen decided. They were Veretian and shameless about such things. Auguste might have been waiting for Laurent to return. Laurent might have left Auguste lying in bed to go to Damen, and Auguste might have lounged in bed, lazily touching himself as Damen was now, while Laurent had attended to the negotiation with Akielos.

Then, when Laurent came back, Auguste would be roused again and ready, waiting impatient while Laurent unlaced his ridiculous Veretian clothing.

Or perhaps Auguste was busy. He might have attended to other business while Laurent was working, meeting with his steward and reviewing his papers. When Laurent returned Auguste might make him wait while Auguste finished reading a missive from Patras.

Laurent would lounge on the settee in Auguste’s sitting room, trying to be comfortable with the plug inside of him after he had already been used twice. Auguste might reprimand him. “Sit up straight.” The Veretian steward would only think that Auguste was trying to train his brother to proper princely behavior, and yet really Auguste would know that straight posture was the way in which Laurent would feel the plug most keenly.

Damen wondered if Auguste had ever thought of placing a larger toy within Laurent. This led to Damen thinking of having his own plug made. The idea excited him. He groaned, and tightened the grip of his hand as he stroked himself. 

He imagined a toy commissioned in the Akielon style, which was somewhat shorter and fatter than the Veretian one he had seen earlier that evening. There were several artisans in Delpha who might be capable of a work such as he was thinking. Master Lorens was an expert glassblower, perhaps him. 

Damen pictured his own seal carved into the base. He could show it to Laurent. Hold it between Laurent’s cheeks and tell him about how it might feel sliding inside of him. Damen could dip it in oil until it was dripping and then press it inside of Laurent when he was already pink and open and spilling drops of Damen’s seed. 

Laurent’s body would close around it once the largest point had crested inside of him, as though it were sucking it inside to hold close as a treasure. Only Damen’s emblem would show at that point, the Akielon lion decorated in gold with a ruby eye. Then Damen could send Laurent back to his brother with his own counter proposal for the treaty.

Damen imagined Auguste’s reaction. He pictured Laurent bending over some ridiculously ornate piece of Veretian furniture, his buttocks bare and exposed for his brother’s inspection. Auguste’s eyes would widen as he saw tease of Damen’s mark poking out. Auguste would withdraw Damen’s plug. Damen could see the stretch of Laurent’s pink rim as Auguste removed it. 

Auguste might hold it in his hand. “It’s bigger,” he said, his tone peeved. Laurent would whimper a little. 

Damen found this fantasy very satisfying. He grasped the base of his cock to stave off finishing at one point, and slowed the movement of his hand as he enjoyed his thoughts. 

Auguste would not be satisfied by simply receiving Damen’s message. He would have to arrange for another toy of his own. Something larger, and even more ostentatiously marked with starburst of the Veretian crown prince. The craftsman would deliver it to him to ensure the commission met expectations. Auguste would hold it in his hand to admire the weight, and then compare its size against the one of Damen’s that he had removed from Laurent. If it compared favorably, Auguste might honor the craftsman with a small smile. 

Auguste would summon his brother back to him. It might be an inopportune moment in the morning in the middle of several meetings. Auguste would show Laurent the new toy, already glistening with oil. “Lower your pants.”

Laurent might object. There was no time for sex before they were expected back in the council chamber--

“I will fill you later,” Auguste could say. “I will prepare you now.” And if there was little time between meetings, he would work the toy inside Laurent rapidly. Damen imagined Laurent bent over his brother’s desk, his hair immaculately braided and his jacket laced and his pants simply lowered to mid thigh. His legs could only spread as far as his pants would allow, and Auguste had one hand in between them. 

“Don’t spill any oil on my clothes,” Laurent might warn. 

“Shh,” Auguste told him, and then, as punishment for Laurent’s worries about his clothing, Auguste pushes the plug inside of his brother a bit more rapidly than was comfortable. Damen imagined Laurent’s face tightening as he felt it, his hands clutching briefly at the edges of the desk as he hissed. 

Auguste wiped his hand and Laurent’s buttocks perfunctorily once the plug was in. “I’m preserving your clothes,” he said. “Stand up.”

Laurent would stand very slowly, still adjusting to the heft of the toy within him.

Auguste might reprimand him. “Control your expression,” Auguste might say, and then reach over to lace his brother’s pants up himself, as though Laurent were a child who could not manage it. When Auguste got to the top lace, he pulled too hard, straining the fabric and the lacing around Laurent’s waist and buttocks. This would have a predictable effect on Laurent and the toy deep inside of him. Laurent would hiss again, and Auguste could dismiss him to walk very slowly out of his brother’s office.

When Laurent had arrived his his chambers earlier that evening, Damen hadn’t known that he had been filled with his brother’s seed and already wearing a plug. But the next time, Damen would suspect. He could draw out their small talk and negotiation. Six percent for grain tariffs? How unreasonable, perhaps six and a half. He could watch how Laurent would stand very still, as the spoke, and imagine what Laurent might already be feeling. Auguste might have spent inside of him that morning and kept him filled throughout the day’s trade meetings, and then removed the plug to fuck him again only to replace it and send him off to Damen. Laurent might already be slick and sloppy inside from their Veretian games. 

Damen would be prepared, then, though. He would be ready to fuck Laurent slowly and for a long time, drawing it out, and when Laurent would be squirming and anxious to finish, Damen would only shift positions, and move Laurent from his knees to his back, or from his back to kneeling over Damen’s lap. When Damen spent deep inside of Laurent, he would have his own toys ready to keep his emission deep within Laurent’s body and send his own message back to Auguste. 

Auguste would commission a larger toy as well. The trade negotiations would draw out. The younger prince of Vere was playing a special role in the negotiations, courtiers would say, carrying messages back and forth between Prince Auguste and Prince Damen when everything seemed at a stalemate at the negotiating table. 

Laurent would enjoy it at first, smug and glorying in the attention. It would be wearying for him, though. He might balk at one of Auguste’s larger toys when his brother first produced it. Auguste would need to coax him. “We cannot let them win!” Auguste would say, and work Laurent open with his fingers to take the larger insertion. 

Damen would need to persuade him as well. He could use his mouth on Laurent and leave him wet and open, and then, when Laurent was panting and still recovering from his own release, Damen could slide the next toy within him. “That’s so good, sweetheart,” Damen would tell him, once it was inside. The toys would be quite heavy, and slick with oil, and Laurent would have to clench tightly to keep them within as he made his way throughout the fort. 

When the toys were big enough, there would be no question that Laurent would be able to take Damen and Auguste at the same time. 

Damen imagined it, the three of them in one of the royal chambers in the fort at Marlas, already undressed and reclining on one of the elaborate Veretian feather beds. Laurent’s hair was loose and spread against the pillow. Auguste was stroking Laurent slowly, and Laurent would arch prettily, ever aware of their audience. 

Damen would let Auguste take Laurent first. He would be aroused, watching it from a position next to them on the bed, and he was desperately aroused thinking about it now. He imagined Auguste positioning Laurent on the bed to his satisfaction, and Laurent being lazy and a bit bratty about it to his brother. Auguste would know how flexible Laurent was, and wouldn’t hesitate to spread Laurent’s legs or tell his brother to hold a position. 

Damen pictured their bodies together. They both had pale skin. Auguste’s hair was a slightly darker shade of gold and cut to a shorter length. Auguste’s build was larger than his brother, taller and broader, so he could cover Laurent on the bed, press Laurent into the bedclothes and thrust with his hips and leave Laurent little room to do anything besides call out. Auguste might tease Damen a bit because he was first. “Do you like that?” he could ask Laurent, stilling until Laurent would answer in the affirmative.

When Auguste finished, it would be Damen’s turn. Laurent would not need preparing, at that point, and Damen would be fully roused from the watching, so after he had taken a moment to enjoy seeing the trickle of Auguste’s seed spilling out of Laurent, Damen could simply tug Laurent across the bed and push into him himself.

Damen could show Auguste how good he was at bringing Laurent to pleasure. He could leave Laurent flushed and panting, his hair a birds nest from where he rubbed it against the pillows. 

Auguste would want to show off in return. By the time Damen finished, Auguste would be roused again. The would speak to each other in quiet tones the second time, words Damen couldn’t quite make out. Their mother was Kemptian, Damen remembered, and perhaps that was the language they murmured to each other in. Laurent made a small noise as Auguste fucked inside of him again, and Auguste’s tone was soothing, reassuring. 

It was slower for Auguste, the second time. When he finished the second time, he tilted Laurent’s hips and pressed deep inside of Laurent, as though by spilling the deepest within his body he would be able to negate Damen’s claim. Auguste would give Damen a look of triumph and challenge at his claim, but Damen would be ready to take his place. 

Laurent would be pink and sweaty and loose-limbed. Damen could cover his face with kisses and tease at Laurent’s fine skin with his teeth. When Damen started fucking him a second time, Laurent moved with him, finding his rhythm and clutching at Damen’s shoulders. After a while, Laurent relaxed into the bedclothes, pressing his face against the linen sheets and clutching the fabric in his fists. 

That would be the right time. “Now?” Damen would ask Auguste.

Laurent might make a noise, thinking that was a sign that Damen was going to finish. But Auguste understood what he meant, and moved in closer on the bed. Damen rolled onto his back and shifted Laurent on top of himself without dislodging his cock from within Laurent. Laurent raised his head slightly at the move in position, so Damen had an excellent view of his face when Auguste traced a finger along where they were joined. 

“Spread your legs more,” Auguste said, to Laurent, and Laurent widened his stance obediently. 

Damen could feel Auguste’s finger moving along the rim of Laurent's hold, and then the tightening of the embrace as Auguste pushed in. 

Laurent’s eyes were wet. He mumbled something into Damen’s chest. Damen cradled him a bit tighter.

“Relax,” said Auguste. He was moving his finger slowly in and out of Laurent, stretching him gently. Damen carded his fingers through Laurent’s hair. 

After Auguste had managed two fingers, Damen suggested a toy.

Auguste agreed, and produced a slim toy from a drawer near to his bed. He worked it in, and it was different for Damen, feeling the unyielding pressure of the glass alongside his cock within Laurent’s warmth.

It did not seem like Laurent was ready, though. Damen might begin to be concerned that Auguste was not doing this correctly. It’s not as though Auguste would share Laurent with others, Damen told himself. He wouldn’t let just any other princes fuck his brother (the thought of Torveld of Patras came to Damen again and he pushed it away firmly). Auguste might not know how to make Laurent ready to take the both of them at once.

Damen withdrew from Laurent, and sat up, and directed Auguste to a new position on the bed. Auguste drew Laurent into his lap, instead, placing Laurent’s head against his shoulder tenderly, and then placed one of his hands on Laurent’s hips and one on his cock to guide it inside. 

Damen reached for the oil. 

Auguste was impatient with Damen’s work. “That’s just what I was doing,” he said, about Damen’s fingers, but Damen ignored him and focused on the minute trembling of Laurent’s muscles as he stretched him. He placed his other hand on Laurent’s thigh and caressed it gently, using the tightening and relaxing of Laurent’s muscles as a cue. 

“He is ready now,” said Auguste. 

“I have three fingers inside,” said Damen, moving them gently. 

Auguste was stroking Laurent’s hair. Auguste said something in Kemptian that Damen still didn’t understand. 

“Yes,” said Laurent.

Damen moved into position, and used his hand to press the head of his cock against the stretched hole. 

Laurent opened his mouth, panting against Auguste’s shoulder. 

Damen pressed past the resistance and was sliding in along Auguste. He held still, inside, letting Laurent adjust, enjoying the feeling.

Auguste was speaking. “That’s so good, brother,” he said. “You are filled so well. You are tightening around us so sweetly.”

Damen groaned. Words felt almost beyond him. “We will spill so deep inside of you,” he managed. 

“Yes,” Auguste agreed, shifting his hips slightly. “Mixing our seed as a sign of the goodwill between our kingdoms.” Damen groaned again at the movement. “And we won’t let a drop of it spill, because I have the perfect toy to plug you up--”

Alone in his own bedchamber, Damen spilled in his own hand. His seed fell on his own chest and onto his fingers. He stroked himself through the aftershocks, breathing heavily and flushed, amazed and embarrassed by his own thoughts and yet still desperately curious to know what was happening in the bedroom of the Veretian princes on the other side of the fort.

The following morning, Damen was seated across from Auguste at the negotiating table as usual. Damen felt his face flush as he looked at Auguste across the table. Auguste was severely dressed. His jacket laced up his neck and covered his arms and his boots left no part of his legs exposed. His hair was neatly combed. His face was genial. Damen could hardly bring himself to look at him. 

He felt a heavy guilt for the thoughts he had thought about Prince Auguste the night before. It was fortunate that Auguste had no idea how depraved Damen was within his own head. 

“Are you well?” said Auguste solicitously. 

“I didn’t sleep well.”

Auguste made a sympathetic noise. He looked perfectly rested. 

Prince Laurent arrived late. The other two Princes turned as he walked in. Damen watched as Laurent walked and then seated himself on a chair next to Auguste. Was there always that sway to his hips as he moved? Damen pushed these thoughts aside. They were unbecoming of a Prince.

Laurent leaned in close to his brother, and whispered a message that only Damen could overhear. “I spoke with Master Lorens,” said Laurent to Auguste. “He said he can complete the piece that you require.”


End file.
